November 2018 – Drifting Along Dave

Hopefully not a sign of things to come. Left Morocco bound for Rome. Once the plane reached altitude I needed to relieve myself so I made my way back towards the rear of the plane. The stewardess was hanging around the toilets and as I approached a passenger, a lady, exited the toilet I was about to enter. Before I could enter the stewardess stuck her head in the vacant loo then looked at me, shook her head and raised her eyebrows. A bit weird I thought, but also surmised that I was in for a pretty bad experience. Upon entry I was greeted not by my expectations but rather the smell of cigarettes. So, smile on face, I thought I had escaped that pretty bad experience after all. Unfortunately no. Half way through peeing the plane hit turbulence, initially just rocking the plane but then going full on, causing me to let go of what I was holding and grab the nearest fixed railing. My feet were lifting off the floor and outside the crashing of the food trolley they had been preparing could be heard. When the violent shaking did not subside I decided it was time to get out of my personal blender, eventually sliding that little lever and pushing the door open. I was met by the sound of screaming passengers and my odor smelling stewardess already buckled in her seat in the gantry. She pointed to the nearby seat which was placed against the wall and needed to be pulled down for seating upon. While grabbing onto anything fixed and dodging the overturned trolley, I made my way towards it, pulled it down, plane still violently shaking and plopped my bum down...upon the floor. Silly me had let go of the seat too early and the seat had flipped back up into its normal position meaning thin air was all that existed where I had hoped a seat would be. Eventually got on the seat and hanging on to my proper seat belt (like the one's racing car drivers use) got buckled in and relaxed (as much as possible) until the shaking subsided. Must have been a 10 minute ordeal all up. Never had it before, never want it again.

The rest of the flight went well and landed in Rome, Italy. A few days earlier I had booked a flight to Amsterdam to meet a really good mate, Neil, who I hadn't seen for 13 years. The flight left on one of the first flights in the morning so I had decided to do the airport floor sleeping thing. Not fun, not sure why I called it the airport sleeping thing, not much sleep. Amsterdam is one of my favorite cities in the world. It is so chilled. Love walking around the canals, seeing the multi-storied beautiful buildings that somehow are still standing, leaning as they are, the atmosphere around the place is just so good. In the past the times I spent in Amsterdam would be ones in party mode, heavy duty and rather forgetful after the event, if you get my meaning. This was no different except being more refined and possibly mature (possibly not), we decided to visit some attractions as well. This led us to the Begijnhof (a convent community that in the past looked after their fellow females), Vondelpark (Neil owns a gardening business and this park had an English garden flavor to it, or so I read, I think), to an outdoor street market and finally saw some cool art in the Stedelijk museum. Neil left the day before me and I spent that night with a previously unknown relative Marga who was a great host. Thanks again Marga, appreciate the hospitality and really enjoyed our talks.

Left Holland, back to Italy where I stayed with friends in Tuscany, hello Giacomo & Francesca. Their two boys are getting bigger and with Luca at 2 and Alessandro at 5 life was definitely not uneventful, or even quiet. Great boys which were lots of fun. Had a great 2 weeks with the family there. We went to many of the surrounding Tuscan towns and even ended up in Lucca for the world's second biggest game & comic book convention, many a great costume worn. Giacomo is in the wine business so my alcohol input went up markedly but my taste buds didn't mind, many a fine drop. Finally put to rest my camera problem after all these months. Nikon Italy wouldn't honor my worldwide warranty unless I had bought the camera lens in Europe??? Got so sick of the crap that I sent my lens back to Australia to get repaired and bought an identical one in Florence. Camera is once again clicking at a accustomed rate. While in Florence I righted a previous wrong and visited the Uffizi museum after the standard 3 hour line to get in (in the morning it was 5 hours so got a bargain there). This gave the camera a work out with Leonardo and his mates showing off their impressive works. It was very sad to say my goodbyes to Fran & Giacomo. They were adamant that I shouldn't leave Italy without seeing Venice so that's what I did.

The first and only previous time I visited Venice in 1988 and it was only a brief 2 hours stopover between trains. Saw the canal, walked over a bridge, been there done that. At least that's what I thought back then. It's good to be proven wrong. Yes the place is expensive and they could sink every gondola and it wouldn't make any difference to me but...there are some special places that I saw there that makes me glad I went back. From the outside the Basilica Santa Maria Glorioso del Frari looks like your standard Italian cathedral, high ceilings, wide and deep main auditorium, nothing special. In fact the outside looked quite plain. It is only once your inside that the church takes on a different personality. Lining both sides of the church as you enter are a number of monumental altars that reach high towards the ceiling. My favorites of these altars were the large burial pyramid where sculptor Antonio Canova lay (I don't know him either but his burial site was impressive) and the funereal monument by Longhena with well-muscled black men holding up the monument with gruesome black skeletons jutting from the wall beside them (my favorite). There were more Italian masterpiece paintings by some famous but unknown to me Venetian artists as well as segmented chambers all fantastically decorated. Churches are rarely my scene but this one was definitely one not to miss. Enjoyed it.

Next I went to the Peggy Guggenheim museum where I saw some paintings of my favorite artists (Miro, Picasso, Kandinsky, Magritte, Dali) and got so very close to a Jackson Pollock, worth around $150mil, that I could have licked it (not that I would). Finally the last place I visited that I would definitely recommend for its uniqueness (as far as I know) is the Palazzo Dulace near St.Marks square. This was the residence of the Doge of Venice (something like the governor) so as you can imagine the place is grand indeed. On the upper floors it's as if each room was a museum in itself with the rooms full on decorated with paintings that weren't just consigned to the walls. In fact it was the high ceilings that were totally covered in these bog standard Italian masterpieces and between each of these intricately designed frames separated one from the next. One room must have been around 60m long. Really impressive. So yes, thanks Fran & Giacomo, I was very happy with the visit to Venice. PS. There were also a few canals (and unsunk gondolas).

Q: "Hello. How are you? What country are you from? How long have you been in Morocco? What's the name of your hotel?".

Hear these baited questions and the very good chances are that you are talking to one (of the many) infamous Moroccan touts whose purpose in life is to transfer all that hard earned cash from your wallet, to their pocket. They do this by earning commission from bringing you to businesses that provide you with a service or goods, like a hotel. Of course by arriving to the business with one of these guys the price goes up by the amount they have to pay them. Not ideal at all. The simplest way to get rid of them is to be nice but...

A: "Good, thank you. Australia. 2 weeks (even if you have just arrived). None of your business".

At this point they may try to make you feel guilty ("Why do you say this? I was just being friendly") but more likely they will come to the conclusion that the person they are talking to understands the situation and leave you so very quickly, without a word, as if you had never existed, looking for their next meal to feed on. They are harmless if you know they are around but it gets to you after awhile and the problem is it can affect how you respond to genuinely friendly people. The balance is delicate. The good thing is they are rarely found outside of the main tourist destinations where you can trust the people you meet are as they say they are.

I started this blog rather negatively so let's get all the bad things out of the way quickly because Morocco is definitely a fantastic place to visit. Salesmen. The saying goes "there's no room for friends in business" (I don't agree with this but it fits into my story so I am going to run with it). You can either call the merchants in the souks one of two things, highly skilled manipulators that try to extract the best price for their goods so that both parties depart in agreeance ... or crooks. "Come in my shop, I give you the best price" (or the one that I liked the most "I will give you the most democratic price"), is usually over double the new best price when walking out, and, if you walk out without the goods the chances are you will hear ever lower best prices being shouted the further you walk away. Never underestimate experience and these guys have bucket loads, they are good! The shops where these guys trade are located in the souks that are usually found within the city's medina. A medina consists of a carless maze of alleyways spreading within kilometers of a walled city. These alleyways are usually flanked by high walls of surrounding buildings as they snake their way within the city. Getting lost is obligatory and also really fun as around each corner a new surprise can await. This is my 3rd visit to Morocco and I am undecided whether being lost within a medina is better now or before. With the advent of GPS any open space allows you to re-orientate as to where you are, in the past being lost would either mean a far longer walk until you fortunately come across some landmark you recognize or, paying some kid way too much to take you back to your hotel. The old way being far more of an adventure but not always finishing with the perfect ending.

The 2 most famous medinas in Morocco are the ones in Fes and Marrakech. Upon landing in Morocco I jumped straight on a train from Casablanca for the 4½ hour journey to Fes. Founded around 800AD, today Fes has the world's largest medina and subsequently the largest car free urbanized area in the world. I hadn't been here for over 25 years when I then could have sold my girlfriend for a princely sum of camels. No girlfriend this time but the intrigue, smells and sights all still existed. Within medinas areas are set aside for tanneries, clothes, fruit and vegetable stalls, metalworks, leather good manufacturing as well as many other skills refined over the centuries. Smells permeate the air whether that be the acrid smells at the tanneries, the fresh odor of herbs or the flesh from the meat market (camel for anyone?) Walking around another blind corner means the chance to stumble upon a small plaza with a cafe for drinking a well earned cup of mint tea, or possibly a quick sidestep to dodge an oncoming donkey laden with goods, perhaps an intricately decorated mosque built 100's of years ago. You can really have a great adventure and it is bucket loads of fun.

From Fes I took an overnight bus to Marrakech and it's world famous square, Djeema el-Fna. Within this large square you'll find snake charmers playing their flutes to upstanding cobras, musicians, storytellers, acrobats and absolutely so very many tourists that at times you'll wonder if you really are where you are supposed to be. At nights food restaurants spring up and spruikers strut their stuff attempting to woo you into their premises. A lot of fun can be had as you walk around deciding which place to choose, There's also stalls selling fresh fruit juice, snails, truckloads of nuts or people giving henna tattoos or conducting skill games. This place is a hive of activity from morning to very late at night. Behind the square, Marrakech's own souk spreads out. Verbal jousting with the salesmen is common. Fun for someone with an already heavy backpack that doesn't really intend on buying much. Unfortunately fruitless time wasting for the person attempting the sale. Admittedly I did end up buying a few small things, I still use a leather money belt that was made here in 2002 and got them to make a copy. Overall, fortunately, my backpack didn't put on too much weight.

From Marrakech I wanted to travel towards the Algerian border and the easiest and fastest option was to take a 3 day tour to the Sahara desert. I had previously taken this same tour but there were good things to see and do so I had no qualms about the repeat performance. From Ait Benhaddou (an ancient city with buildings made of clay that has been used in movies such as Gladiator), Dades Gorge which, when viewed from above, looks to be a river of olive green as a thick band of palm trees snake their way into the distance flanked on both sides by the contrasting brown hills or mountains, Tatra Gorge surrounded by it's steep cliffs with just the road and a small river squeezed into the valley below, and to finally, the Sahara desert, with it's vast expanse of sand. The most interesting thing that happened in the desert was my attempt to sleep under the stars which ended in a sand storm and a local berber tribesman falling on top of me as I attempted to sleep on the ground. The most painful was the camel ride, or rather the minutes after getting off those extra wide beasts. The most exhilarating was after the most taxing, that being the long climb up the huge sand dune (40 mins) followed by the quick run down (3 mins) taking huge steps that gave the feeling of walking on the moon. On the last day of the tour they dropped me off in a town to catch some buses north, away from the throngs of tourists I had gotten used to.

So during the rest of my trip in Morocco I only saw 2 other foreigners. An Italian man, Romano, who's motorbike had come to grief while mapping routes off-road for an upcoming international rally (interesting chap with great stories) and Elisa (I hope I got her name right) who acted as my interpreter in Figuig, my last true destination in Morocco, but her true job was running a business where she sold Moroccan jewelry in her homeland, France. Figuig is an oasis town right on the border of Algeria. There is a section on a higher plateau where most of the commercial businesses reside and a lower part where most of the palm trees reside (and of course houses). I stayed in the lower level in a 300 year old traditional ksar (fortified house). Food was included in the price so one night Elisa and me had dinner at Amina's (my host's) sister's house. The food was altered for their guests adding chicken to the sheep's head platter. Far more agreeable although the meat from the sheep's head had unfortunately been removed from the head itself (photo opportunity lost). The food is placed on a large platter with everyone eating directly off this platter, saves on lots of dishes I guess. I haven't talked about food yet and want to mention the tajines so that I remember to cook some up when my travels end. Tajine Kefta (with tomatoes) Dave, don't forget it! Overall the food in Morocco was great as was Figuig and it's surrounds. An overnight train from Oujda finished the trip. Great place Morocco which I highly recommend (just watch out for the touts and those over inflated prices!)